Things You Would Rather Not Know
by Orochimaru-han
Summary: Renji gets permission to look through his past life records. Mentions of RenjiRukia and IchigoRukia Over all: RenjiIchigo Due to requests here and at my live journal, this will be extended several chapters past a one shot. Rating subject to change.


GaspShock! Renji/Ichigo! What is the world coming to? They are my crack pairing for Bleach and I wish I could find more of it to read. Writing it on my own, whileit isfun to write, makes me sad.

Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

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Renji paused before the large wooden doors, usually restricted from access. Technically this entire wing was restricted. The doors were old and unadorned, the wood faded and dirty. When was the last time someone was allowed back here to clean? He thought, more for the sake of stalling than actual caring. He glanced down at the worn stones beneath his feet, he didn't know what was keeping him back; after all, he had asked to come here, he had been the one who had wanted it. Truthfully he hadn't expected to be granted permission though.

Just a few days ago he had sent a request to Center 46 to be allowed access to his past life records. He had never thought to get permission, let alone as soon as he did. Right now he was wondering why he had asked in the first place; it wasn't like it really mattered if he couldn't remember even his last life as a human, what mattered was his life now. Yet here he was.

The way the whole reincarnation thing worked was pretty simple, you died on earth and came to Soul Society with only your memories of the most recent past life. After a time those memories would fade just from how long you lived on this side, and eventually you would die here and start all over again. There were some exceptions, like if you died of old age on earth then you would come to Soul Society as a memory-less child, and of course what happened to your soul when a Hallow got a hold of it was a little outside the realm of life death and rebirth.

Renji knew nothing of his last life, so it was safe to assume that he had died of old age his last time on earth, but there was more he wanted to know. What kind of person was he? Was he a girl (he hoped not)? What did he do with his life? Silly things really, yet the curiosity had finally gotten to him, and that brought him to the present, stalling for time.

Heaving a sigh and setting his resolve, Renji pushed open the doors. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even do something as simple as this?

The doors swung open soundlessly, the hinges not having suffered the effects of time it seemed. On the other side of them lie a dimly light hallway, lined with what looked like file cabinets, but it was hard to tell seeing as everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, probably centuries worth. The floor tiles were indistinguishable and footprints near filled out by dust like those left behind on a snowy day were scattered about.

He took his first cautious step inside; the small movement kicking so much of the dust up it was another few minutes before he could stop coughing. He unwound the handkerchief from around his forehead and tied it so that it covered his nose and mouth; he wanted to be able to breathe after all.

_Second row from the bottom, left side, three hundred and sixty seventh from the door._ He mentally recited what he had been told; moving forward counting what looked like file cabinets as he went. It was hard to tell one from the other with how thoroughly coated they all were, but the handles protruding from each of them was enough to go by. Still, this was going to take a while.

_Three sixty five, three sixty six, three sixty seven… Ha found it!_ He stopped in front of the cabinet, no different from the countless others in the hall; somehow that seemed disappointing, like he had been expecting it to be unique. His shinigami robes were, by this time, as coated as the rest of the hall and a rather dull grey instead of the perfect black they normally were, so was his white sash and he could only guess at what the rest of him looked like. But that too was beside the point, he was here.

He wrapped a grey colored hand around the handle and pulled, the cabinet sliding out easily. He pulled and pulled and pulled, there seemed to be no end to it. Backed up about half the distance of the hall he figured that was plenty; he wasn't going to look through all of it.

Renji figured the best place to start was from the beginning, the first file was surprisingly thin. He opened it to the first page and was more than a little shocked by what he found. It was a picture of himself, wearing … nothing… and it moved, rotating in a slow clockwise circle. Cheeks burning he shut the cover of the file as close to slamming it as he could. After a few moments to recover he slowly reopened it, allowing himself to examine… himself. Once the picture made a full circle it showed him younger, and then younger still, skipping to the most obvious changes in his physical appearance.

The next few pages were written, listing off in almost too small to read print his physical appearance throughout his life. Beyond that were very detailed accounts of his personality. After that was where things got weird. There were more pictures like the first, only they weren't necessarily of him but of his life, like watching a film of everything he had done since he had come to Soul Society. If only he could hear what was going on.

As if the thought were a trigger, there was suddenly sound, from the thoughts to the wind rustling in the photographic trees. That was just creepy. Then Renji realized it had reacted to his thoughts; was that how this whole system worked? Adjusting its self to the preferences of who ever was there at the time? Might as well test the theory.

He concentrated on a time about three weeks before, wanting to see that again. Obediently, the picture in his hand shifted and he saw himself talking to Ikakku after a sparing match. It was almost like an out of body experience seeing it again.

Well this would make his search more interesting.

He placed the file back and pulled out another.

Renji sat cross-legged on the dust covered floor, completely absorbed in what he was doing. He had gone through three other lives since looking at his current one and was now skipping through the fourth.

It was weird, there were not patterns to how you were born that he could see. And you weren't reborn in the present time it was on earth after Soul Society. His most recent past life he had been a pirate, a damned good one too. The one before that seemed to be a thousand years in the future, the one before that six hundred some years in the past and the one he was on now was dated with a counter for years he didn't even know how to interpret. Weird wasn't quite the word, awesome seemed better.

Other things had become apparent. Like how he seemed to run into the same people over and over again. Their appearances varied with each life, but their mannerisms and personalities didn't change at all (neither did his); also he hadn't found any gender switches yet.

He could tell who each person was after a little time, Rukia was always easy to pick out, so were Ichigo and Byakuya, he had run into who he thought was Aizen a few times, and someone who was definitely Rangiku (though considerably less busty in this file).

They were in Soul Society, not on earth in this one, all of them shinigami. Spiritual powers didn't seem to change with lives either, which made things a little more interesting for everyone involved; it also made it easier to pick out people he probably knew. The part he was at he was talking to Rukia, about what wasn't important, this had really become a contest between his and Ichigo's past incarnations over who could win her over. With the files he had been over it was tied one to one and the other he had died rather young, if he could see who won her over more times he would know how good his chances were now.

It seemed to be going really well for him, Rukia's incarnation seemed to more interested in him than in Ichigo's incarnation. He and Ichigo were close friends in this life, and this girl would probably ruin their friendship, but that didn't matter, he just wanted to win. It was like watching a movie on fast forward, blurring over the parts he didn't care about and slowing on the parts that he deemed important on some subconscious level.

The pictures slowed again, and the sound kicked in so he could hear. It didn't matter though because this life he was speaking some weird ass language. Rukia's incarnation wasn't in this part, it was him and Ichigo talking alone about something. It must have something to do about his eventual relationship in this life or he wouldn't be watching it now.

He and Ichigo, both their names something unpronounceable in this life, were arguing. It had become a yelling match and was quickly devolving into a fist fight. He was winning too. Then suddenly the fist fight changed and _Oh God, no, that can't be right!_

Renji watched in fascinated horror as he and Ichigo tore at each others clothes and… oh SHIT… They were not… he wasn't… he couldn't be SLEEPING with ICHIGO!

He shut the file with more force, and faster than he had ever thought possible, shoving it back into it's place and all but leaving the cabinet open as he fled from the hall, pulling the doors shut behind him.

His face was burning under the dust that coated it, so hot that he thought the handkerchief still over his mouth and nose would catch fire.

Renji prayed to no one in particular that it was a once in his souls existence thing. And suddenly, he found himself not caring who ended up with Rukia in this life as long as one of them did.


End file.
